You Can Not Fix What Has Shattered
by shattered hourglass
Summary: I can’t help but think of the shattered doll when I think of him. Something that is so pretty, so pure. Something that has been hurt and abused and twisted until he doesn’t look like the pretty doll that he once was.


**You Can Not Fix What Has Shattered**

By: Shattered Hourglass

Requested by: Kigen

Disclaimer: I do not own Shaman King.

Broken.

It's a completely ordinary, everyday word.

I broke a plate.

I broke a toy.

I broke your heart.

It is said so many times, we begin to forget what broken really means.

And when something does break, we can fix it, or replace it with something new.

I bought a new plate.

I fixed the toy.

He's in love with someone else now.

Maybe shattered would be a better word.

The pretty porcelain doll has shattered. Not just broken, shattered.

Things that are broken can be fixed or replaced. It is not so easy when something has shattered.

The pretty porcelain doll is broken. A few cracks her, but we can fix it. We can get a new doll.

The pretty porcelain doll is shattered. It has been completely smashed into little, tiny pieces that don't even resemble a doll anymore. You can't fix it. Even if you rebuilt it from every little, tiny piece, it will never be the same as before. I don't want to replace the doll; this doll.

I can't help but think of the shattered doll when I think of him. Something that is so pretty, so pure; something that has been hurt and abused and twisted until he doesn't look like the pretty doll that he once was.

And the shattered shards only splinter into smaller and smaller pieces.

There will nothing but dust left if this keeps up much longer.

And then the doll will be ruined, destroyed, gone. Gone is a lot more final than even shattered.

And I don't want that to happen to him. I don't want him to destroy himself. I want him here with me.

I know I'm being selfish. I want to have the pretty porcelain doll, and keep him with me always. I want to keep him safe, and warm, and make sure he is always happy; always smiling. I don't want him to break anymore.

It pains me so much to see him being cared for by another. The one who holds him now is rough; is crude when he handles the doll. He may dress the doll in new clothes, give him smiles and kind words, but he doesn't really care for the doll. He doesn't stop the doll from continuing to shatter into smaller and smaller pieces that I see every time I see the doll.

The doll. My doll.

It's not too much to ask, is it? I care about the doll. I care for him so much that my heart breaks every time I see him shattering.

But the doll is the one who chooses his owner. The owner does not get to choose the doll.

Owner… I sound possessive, don't I? I can't help it. Really, I can't.

Perhaps that is why now, when the doll is outside by himself; I can not stop from walking to him. I can not stop my hand from grasping his arm, gently so as not to hurt him anymore that he has been hurt, but strong enough that he can not run away from me.

And the doll looks at me with surprise in his wide green eyes. They are still so bright, despite the pain the shattering causes him. How much longer will his eyes remain so bright? How much longer until his eyes dim and crack like the rest of his fragile body?

And quickly, the angelic porcelain face hardens. The bright, wide, green eyes narrow with a blazing anger with a touch of pain and fear swirling and blending together with the anger. Soft lips that I want to smile twist into a snarl.

The lips move to spit words into my face.

Let go of me, Yoh Asakura. Let me go.

I can not. And I tell him this.

The doll turns his head away from me, again trying to tug his arm away from my grasp. I don't let him go. I can't let him go.

My arms twist and wrap around his fragile body, making the doll freeze. I hold him in my arms and cradle him. I try to stop the shattering.

Again, the doll speaks. But the words are a little softer now; a little more strained.

Let go of me, Yoh Asakura. Let me go.

I tell him no.

He tries to pull away from me, put I only hold him tighter to me. His hands press against my shoulders, trying to shove me away; reject me. His hands are rough, callused, worn from too many years of struggle and pain.

He is too young. He should not have hands like this.

I take his hand and hold it in my own, larger hand. My fingers run along it; tracing the lines of his palm, running along the length of his palm and fingers, finally entwining our digits together.

I look at his face, and it is neither happy nor sad. It is confused, curious, and a little afraid.

What are you doing?

The doll's voice quivers as it questions.

I shake my head. I don't know how to explain it to him without scaring him, without hurting him.

Instead my body chooses to explain. My fingers stay firmly intertwined with his as my other pushes a stray strand of emerald colored hair away. It slides down to tilt his chin so his eyes are looking into my own. My face leans forward. My nose bumps slightly against his as I press our foreheads together and smile.

And the doll bites his lip looking ready to burst at any moment.

I let my lips touch his this time, in a meager attempt to stop him from breaking anymore, from turning into dust and nothingness. My tongue gently takes his sharp teeth away from the soft skin of his lips. It can't help but taste the metallic tang of blood as it does so.

Our lips stay that way for a few blissful moments longer, before I pull my face away from his. Pull away only enough so that he can breathe, but close so our bodies still touch each others.

His bright green eyes look into mine again. They shine, ready to burst forth with years worth of unshed tears.

His voice is soft, meek, scared, trembling as he asks another question.

Why?

And finally, I answer him.

"I don't want you to destroy yourself Lyserg. I can't watch you hurt anymore."

And he breaks.

I hold the crying, trembling doll tight to my body and comfort it as best I can.

Something that is broken can be fixed.

Something that is shattered can not.

Sometimes you must break what is shattering into order to put the pieces back together again.

Put it back together while you can still see what it is.


End file.
